Matching colours

When I was a girl, I was occasionally spanked by my mother. However, it wasn’t applied that hard or often and she wasn’t that strict. I used to get away with pretty much anything. I was quite a spoilt child, I suppose – I was also a very fussy eater and my mother frequently had to make me a different meal from the one she had prepared for everyone else.

Things all changed when I went to stay with my Aunt Veronica, who agreed to look after me for a month whilst my mum went to Australia.

My aunt had frequently babysat me since I was a very small child and I sometimes spent my weekends there. She was a very strict, old-fashioned lady, a lot older than my mother and in her 60s. My aunt often spanked me when I was at her house for as little as leaving a dirty cup or plate in the sink, or for wearing shoes in the house. I was also made to do chores when I stayed there.

She was particularly a stickler at mealtimes. I wasn’t allowed to talk with my mouth full or have elbows on the table, and I wasn’t allowed to to leave the table until I had eaten every single thing on my plate.

On this particular occasion, when I was about 11, Aunt Veronica called me to say supper was ready. To my horror, she had made me a horrible-looking beetroot salad. I hated salad – especially beetroot! I told her that I didn’t like it and added that I wasn’t hungry.

She give me a stern look and said: “You will sit there and eat every bit of salad on that plate, young lady, or I will take you upstairs to my bedroom and give you a good hiding!”

I turned back to my meal. I managed to eat most of it but really couldn’t stomach the beetroot. I told Aunt Veronica that I was full and anyway, I didn’t like beetroot.

She replied: “You will sit there and eat every bit of it, little lady! I won’t have good food being wasted in this house!” I then had a fit of temper, and said: “I’m not eating it! You can’t make me!” I pushed my plate away in anger, but did it a bit too hard – the plate fell on to the floor and smashed into several pieces.

That was it – Aunt Veronica was furious now. She got up from her seat, dragged me to the staircase and said: “How dare you! You naughty, disobedient girl! Get your arse up those stairs this instant – you are in for the hiding of your life, my girl!”

I was marched up to my aunt’s bedroom, where I was stripped from the waist down. Aunt Veronica put me over her knee, took off her slipper and spanked my bare bottom until it was the same colour as the beetroot I had refused to eat.

Contributor: Anonymous

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